Patriotic Sex and Drunky Monkey
by Symbioticdeath
Summary: In which Clint is mistaken and Darcy thinks it's hilarious. For twistedingenue


Clint wanted to hate Captain America. He really, really did. Instead he found himself sitting in a dive bar in lower Manhattan with Tony 'No talking, just drinking' Stark. He knew why he was there but why the billionaire playboy needed to drown himself, the archer had no clue. Hawkeye did like the top shelf whiskey Stark pointed to then reached under the bar to snatch two shot glasses. It's not that he didn't care what was bothering his teammate; it's just his own problems took precedence.

Like how his maybe girlfriend was probably having patriotic sex with Captain America. At the thought, Clint lined up three shot glasses, filled them then slammed them back. Tony clapped sloppily before he slid off his bar stool. The blonde snorted, lifted the bottle up and caught sight of himself in the mirror behind the bar. Nat once said his face held character. Sure, his nose healed wrong a couple of times and yeah, he was in his mid-thirties. He could keep up with most of the science babble Stark, Banner and Dr. Foster spewed out in constant streams. He did the math for his shots in his head.

He was a damned fine catch.

Except Steve's looks rivaled most movie stars. Even when their team leader was coated in blood and ash he still looked like a leading man in a romance novel. Women swooned, men shook his hand and his maybe girlfriend latched on to the Star Spangled Man like a life preserver to a drowning man. Steve smiled at her as if she'd replaced the sun. Something in Clint's chest tore itself in half when he saw them.

Hence the drinking. Stark somehow managed to pour himself a shot without pulling his drunken ass back onto his stool. Clint handed his companion the bottle before he attempted to stand up on the swaying floor. Unfortunately he slid down to join Tony, who passed the bottle over.

* * *

_Several Hours earlier…_

"_How are you feeling, Agent?" Steve asked Coulson. He shoved his cowl off, flaxen hair askew. They were 'retrieving' the Agent according to Stark. Natasha and Clint exchanged a look then smirked before they agreed to go on the mission. Thor and Bruce were running amok in the Catskills to give Fury something to watch as they infiltrated his helicarrier._

"_Phil, just Phil," Coulson answered. He glared at Stark since he and Steve snagged him right out of physical therapy. Well, Tony distracted the therapist while he left Steve to carry Coulson. "I assume this is a kidnapping?"_

"_Kidnapping? Really? You think I would resort to kidnapping? More like agent napping or rather agent borrowing," Tony retorted. "Pepper missed you. Are you going to tell Apple Pie that thing you had me research?"_

"_Research?" Steve repeated. "Apple pie?"_

"_Because you're as American as apple pie," Tony cackled._

_Even in scrubs and slippers, Coulson still managed to hold an air of office. He looked at Steve, probably to organize his words._

"_Director Fury placed a gag order on this particular piece of intelligence," Phil began. The agent's eyes narrowed. "I protested the order. You have a granddaughter."_

"_Evidence you Fon-did it," Tony smirked. "Knew you had it in you, Stripes."_

_Steve felt as if the floor of the Quinjet dropped out from under him. His heart filled to bursting with joy because he wasn't alone anymore. He liked the friends he made in his team mates but he craved the feeling of being part of something personal. Bucky always made sure Steve felt that way with his large family even if the once shorter man wanted something like it for himself. He breathed in slowly._

_A granddaughter._

_That meant the night after Peggy found him in the bar resulted in this girl who he desperately wanted to see._

"_What if she doesn't want to see me?" Steve said aloud. Tony's eyes widened and Phil snorted._

"_She will want to see you, Captain Rogers. She lost her parents at a young age and was raised by a close family friend," Phil told him. "Tony informed her of your existence an hour ago via text. I want on record that I did not approve of his delivery method."_

"_You vetoed my getting Deadpool as a singing telegram," Tony retorted. "It would have been hilarious."_

"_Not all of us share your camaraderie with Agent Wilson," Phil stated. "Considering his destructive and unorthodox methods."_

_When they landed Steve stood by the hatch door, practically vibrating. Clint switched off the engines then the door opened. The landing pad on the Avenger's Tower seemed to go on forever as soon as he stepped onto it. His heart hammered in his chest. He'd never been afraid like this before. Fear never came over him during fire fights or walking into obvious traps. It tightened his throat after he wondered what he needed to say to the girl. A girl whose name he didn't know. The girl who was his granddaughter and all that remained proving Peggy's existence. Still a stranger._

_Something in him breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Darcy Lewis waiting at the edge of the landing pad in one of her oversized cardigans and purple Converse. Her dark chocolate hair whipped around her face in the wind. She looked up and smiled when she saw him. In that very moment he saw the ghost of his first love in the whispers of her face. His own blue eyes stared back at him as if to say 'Took you long enough, Grandpops.'_

_Steve walked towards Darcy. He picked up to a jog and met her half way. She leapt into his arms, holding him tight and crying. He felt the tears on his own cheeks when he pulled her away from the impression of a grabby octopus she'd been executing. Family, they were family. No longer alone. He should have suspected her. Too many times Darcy mentioned missing out on 'typical' family things like Sunday dinners and squabbling._

_Behind him Black Widow raised one thin eyebrow while Hawkeye's expression blanked. He didn't notice at all, distracted by finally having something to tether him in the present that wasn't soaked in sadness or regret._

* * *

Darcy sat cross legged on the horrible white shag rug Tony insisted they needed for the common living room. The billionaire stated it was 'vital to the flow' before he promptly tripped over it, cursing. She also may or may not have caught Natasha sprawled over it like a cat while napping. At the moment she was showing Steve the many albums of photos Phil created over the years. There were several dedicated to her birthdays alone.

"Phil raised you?" Steve asked as he flipped to a picture of her and Phil at Niagara Falls for her thirteenth birthday.

"Yep. Contrary to popular opinion, he can rock a frilly apron and he is kick ass at fixing scraped elbows," Darcy replied. "So, are we keeping this on the DL or are you going to need Pepper to organize a press release?"

He'd sprawled himself out across the sea of albums and kept looking at her like she would disappear if he blinked. Don't get her wrong, Darcy loved Phil like a father and he was part of her family but she totes got it. She felt the same, something clicked into place and if she wanted to wax maudlin, she gained a past in a way. She knew all about Captain America from her propaganda capstone class. It was Steve Rogers she wanted to know about.

"I want the team to know. I don't think the public should. They'll Mybook about it," Steve answered, eyes drawn. The complexities of social media still eluded him.

"It's Facebook, Stevo," Darcy corrected. "And that's cool. Any questions, comments or concerns?"

He smiled, not the too wide smile that exposed his perfect teeth, but a small closed mouth grin. She could feel herself mirroring him because she now knew where she got her trademark smile from. He looked like he was going to say something when Tony stumbled through the common room in a rush to get to the bathroom. Clint crawled out of the elevator after the billionaire.

Darcy almost took a picture because Clint was adorable in a 'drunken assassin can't fend for himself' kind of way. She ignored the fact it's three in the afternoon and how he smelled like the bad end of a gutter on St. Patrick's Day. His sandy hair stuck out at odd angles and in small tufts, his jacket inside out and he clung to the floor. She and Steve stood up when he wobbled then fell onto his side.

"Darcy!" Clint exclaimed when he saw her. "I love Darcy!"

Despite what everyone thought and what Tony Tweeted, Clint was very affectionate when it came to the people he cared about. She never did the awkward dance of 'does he love me?' with Clint. He told her when he showed up on her doorstep after the Battle of Manhattan. She drove him back to Tony's Tower for medical attention after she kissed him stupid.

"The sky is blue," Steve quipped and she gave him props mentally for his snarkasm.

"Why aren't," Clint slurred and lost some of his words. "Patriotic sex?"

"What?" Darcy and Steve asked in unison. She felt her eyes go wide and saw red flourish over Steve's face.

"Catch dammit," the archer went on. "Better in bed than Captain Spangle pants."

"I'm dating a moron," the intern slapped a hand over her eyes. "A totes adorbs moron. Grandpops, any chance you can carry him to our floor?"

Steve sighed before he gently threw the archer over his shoulder. Clint weakly punched him in the lower back. Darcy followed them into the elevator and typed in the access code for her floor. After Tony repaired the tower, he moved them all in. He'd given the archer and the intern a floor with two bedrooms, an archery range, a kick ass entertainment corner and an amazing bathroom. At the time they were keeping their relationship quiet because of the whole Loki incident. He surprised her by going to every therapy session. He also used 'his room' to sleep if he thought his sleeping next to her would be unsafe on certain nights. The frequency of her spending nights alone decreased slowly as he talked more about the experience. Small bits, not enough to trigger panic attacks. She led Steve to her room and pointed to the bed.

"I'll be back downstairs in a few minutes," Darcy told him after he gently dumped Clint onto her bed.

The Captain nodded before taking his leave. Darcy shook her head when she saw how Clint's shirt managed to climb half way up his torso. If he didn't smell like he'd drunk the entire bar she would have ogled him. Instead she pulled off his boots and jacket, rolled him onto his side and left aspirin and water on the night table.

She kissed his forehead.

Her moron.

* * *

Light hurt.

Clint blinked without moving his body because that would be a terrible idea. The blankets under him were soft and smelled faintly of the detergent Darcy used. He groaned as the things drunk him said to Darcy came back to bite him in his well-toned ass. He wanted someone to shoot him right now because he made an idiot of himself. Again.

He was a fucking moron.

"You are a fucking moron," Coulson's voice echoed unpleasantly through his ears. The disapproval rattled around in the archer's brain before it settled into his spine. Ouch. "You are one of the smartest agents I ever had the pleasure of handling but you have the emotional constitution of a teenage girl."

He managed to prop himself up on his elbows. Coulson sat in his wheel chair in the doorway and Clint nearly laughed when he saw the Captain America t-shirt with matching pajama bottoms. It'd always been rumored Coulson wore his suits to bed. Even in the field he never saw his handler sleep or give away anything indicated he needed a nap.

"Ya swore," Clint said. "Never swear unless of a massive dust up."

"Darcy is my daughter so this qualifies as a 'massive dust up'. Unlike Mr. Stark, I am not blind as to the goings on of both my daughter and those under my command," Coulson began then moved his hands to rest in his lap. "When Darcy was young, her parents died in the service of SHIELD. With no other living relatives to take care of her, I filled out the paper work. Agent Carter died shortly thereafter and I was left with a spirited and opinionated little girl who has become a phenomenal young woman."

"Never said a word about knowing her but then again she never mentioned it either. Learned that from the best I guess," Clint agreed. He felt like Thor was playing whack a mole with his head. "How bad did I fuck up?"

Coulson raised an eyebrow before he rolled himself out of sight and Clint heard the ding of the elevator a moment later. Somehow the agent's disappointment in him managed to linger in the room like a fog and he still wanted someone to shoot him. The archer rolled onto his side. The sheets reeked of whiskey sweat. His skin felt like he'd slept in a pool of grease. He managed to sit up, his tongue dry and stomach roiling.

He shakily stripped the bed down then stuffed everything in the industrial sized washer in their laundry room. Clint shoved his clothing in as well before he walked through their apartment naked. Contrary to popular belief, he didn't care who saw him naked. The shower he took brought him half back to life while the cup of coffee and bacon sandwich finished the job. He dressed himself in a worn pair of purple pajama pants and a black shirt.

"Jarvis, where is Darcy?" Clint asked once his head stopped doing the Hungover Samba.

"Darcy is in the library," Jarvis answered. "Might I suggest next time calling a car instead of stumbling down the avenue. There is footage of you attempting to engage in fisticuffs with a light post."

Clint groaned.

* * *

He found Darcy asleep in one of the overly plush couches Tony insisted the library needed. The tower hosted a library for 'research' reasons. Everyone on the team knew the billionaire installed it for Banner and Steve. Thor could sometimes be found in the stacks reading obscure epics and self-help books on how to improve familial relationships. Clint loved the comics section.

The blanket draped over Darcy had a large star in the center of it and he wondered why she slept there rather than on the couch in their apartment. Her face peaceful as he knelt next to the couch and reached out to cup her cheek. He brushed his thumb across her cheekbone and marveled at how such a woman could have chosen him. A broken and imperfect toy soldier absolutely stunned in the light of her.

"Hey," Darcy whispered, voice sleep rough. "You feeling better, drunky monkey?"

"Much," he answered. "Why didn't you sleep on our couch?"

"Steve and I were looking at Tony's collection of Captain America memorabilia. I remember all of us having a debate. Must've passed out," she replied. "So, care to explain 'patriotic sex'?"

Clint winced.

"I am a fucking moron?" He offered up. "An insecure moron who doesn't deserve you."

"You're my moron," she smiled and reached out to grab the front of his shirt. "Next time just ask what's going on."

"Yes, Ma'am," the archer agreed. He hummed low in his throat when she pulled him to her to lock her lips to his. She leveraged him up until she could drag him onto the couch. Once she broke the kiss, she yawned. "Still tired?"

"Just a little," she snuggled up to him. "Missed you."

"Get some sleep," Clint told her. "You can tell Tasha later and have her laugh at me. Is Steve going to threaten me?"

"Probably if Daddio hasn't beaten him to it," she closed her eyes. "Just to make sure we're on the same page, Phil raised me and Steve is my grandfather. And Natasha is my step mom."

"What?!"

The End.


End file.
